And he's only getting more alone from now
by Type40Treklock
Summary: The story of before Lucifer fell, the story nobody wants you to know. Lucifer is the main character, Michael is nice, and Chuck is... yeah I have so many names for him. Anyhoo, Luci whumpage, brotherly moments and other stuff. May be continued. Tell me if I should! In a review! ? I'm fishing for reviews now imma stop.
1. chapter 1

**Ok, so Lucifer whump. Because I can. Yeah. Also, Michael is nice, and Chuck is an absolute motherf*cking son of a b!tch (I don't swear in the fic. I'm done.) Anyway. Set before Lucifer fell, humans are still in Eden and the darkness has been locked up. So sweet times really, but not for my Archangel. The reason I think the angels didn't know about the mark has loads of really good reasons, but I'm just gonna say one which is Gabriel seems to think Lucifer is inherently evil (which he's not. Oh, oh what was that? I can't hear you over the sound of Jumpsuit playing too loud. Shut up I'm emotional and supposed to be working). Anyway, they don't know. Onwards.**

Lucifer traced the lines on his skin through his clothes with a shaking finger as he lay in his cell. He didn't need to look to know where they were, the memory of recieving the Mark of Cain was unlikely to ever leave him, with the burning and the hand of his father covering his mouth to stop his screams from alerting his brothers. He wondered, for a split second, wether he would have accepted it if he knew what it would do, but he smothered the thought as soon as it surfaced. Of course he would, if his father asked his help who was he to deny it? He bit his lip, a nervous habit he had developed, how dare he even consider rejecting the gift? That's what his father had called it, so that's what it was. A gift. He was lucky to have been chosen to receive such an honour, especially since Michael would surely have found it much easier to fight. Michael was much stronger.

He raised his hand to his face, tracing the long cut there, mopping up the slippy liquid lining it. He drew his hand away and inspected the Grace on his fingertips. Pathetic. It was despicable for such a slight wound to harm his Grace, the animal from the garden that had attacked him had not been strong, but he didn't wish to harm it. He dropped his hand limply down on his chest again, trying his hardest to ignore the floaty sensation covering him. This had happened before. He had been in this cell for what must be nearly three days now, though he couldn't tell because of the abstance of windows in this dark place. He'd had no food and nothing to drink, and for the past... Length of time... His body had switched between floating and violent tremors that shook his aching being and even forced forth a few tears. But that was his fault. He had lashed out, quite horribly, at a fledgling, his temper short from the pain and his self-restraint weakened from the dizziness, at which point Michael had sentenced him to three days. Which shouldn't be a problem. Angels didn't need to eat or drink, it was just something they liked. Three days was a minor inconvenience, an incentive not to do it again rather than a punishment. But for him, weak and pathetic as he was, this was hitting him just as hard as it would a human. He let out a shaky breath as the tremors started again, softly at first, and curled up on the floor. Pathetic.

When his cell door rattled Lucifer hurriedly stood up, smoothing his feathers and attempting to still his shaking hands. Finally the door swung open and Michael was standing in the entrance, the backlight iluminating the outline of his pearly wings.

"Lucifer," he said kindly, "come on, I'm sorry about that."

Lucifer tried to smile, and apparently it didn't go too bad as Michael reciprocated.

"Brother. Nice to see you." He murmured, his voice gravely from disuse.

He blinked and winced at the bright light of Heaven, his headache returning in full force, and finding himself relieved at his brothers lack of attention to detail as his tremors and shivers intensified.

"Drink? I'll come with you." Said Michael casually.

"Sure." Agreed Lucifer, wanting nothing more than some water, and hoping it might quell his shakes a little. However, that was not to be, as a Herald fluttered up to the brothers.

"He would like to see you, Sir." He said, looking at Lucifer, "At once."

Lucifer swallowed, his throat stinging from the lack of moisture.

"No need to call me Sir." He said gently, before turning to his other brother. "I'll take you up on that drink another time, I must go."

Michael nodded and smiled, waving as he rose towards the sun and flew towards the palace.

He stands stiffly at attention, even as black blotches dance across his vision, and his body trembles minutely, almost unnoticeably. But He sees everything.

"You are weak, my Son," came the commanding tone, "you are almost Human in appearance." His father leant in close to him and whispered, too low for the attendants to hear, "Light Bringer, you must know, surely, that while humans are beautiful, an Angel must be Divine. How could you let yourself fall like this? Why do you insist on showing weakness, while your brothers stay strong? Are you simply not good enough to uphold the trust I placed in you, or do you attempt to glean pity?"

Lucifer held his breath, begged his treacherous pulse to slow, not to give away the fever raging inside him. He wanted to close his eyes so much, his tremors were only increasing with time.

"I- I am sorry, father. Please do not believe I do this for attention, I-"

"No." His father cut him off with a single word, turning away and walking a few paces.

"Leave us." He said firmly, waiting until all the angels around had left them to turn to his Son once more.

"Morningstar. The name given to you to show how bright you shone. But now, you have disobayed me, and the light of your Grace is dimming, to slight for you to see, but dimming."

"Father, please-"

"Silence! You were instructed not to allow your brothers to suspect the Mark. They are not to know of it's existence! But now, with this pitiful show of weakness, physical, mental and evenemotional,certain of the commanders have begun to notice a change in you. This should not go unpunished, but first I will allow you to explain. So, how do you explain your weakness, your blatant disregard for my wishes?"

"I- I'm sorry, I'm trying, father please, it-" Lucifer broke off as his vision blurred dangerously, knowing that fainting would be paramount to full disobedience. He swallowed, ordering himself to stop being so weak."I'm sorry. The Mark is affecting me more than it should. I have gone without food or water for three days, and my inhibitions are somewhat lowered. They shouldn't be, but I fear I may need to eat and drink now, as opposed to doing it for pleasure."

His Father frowned studying his face as Lucifer tried to keep it apologetic and disappointed in himself when all he really wanted to do was cry from the pain.

"As I said, Lucifer, this ought to be punished..." He raised his eyebrows at his son, who was looking down now, instead of trying to plead without words.

"Pl- please, father, I'm sorry, but the other angels eat also, and as they do not know of the order, surely allowing me water would not make them suspicious?"

But his Father simply watched him, face blank and impassive as his som struggled to remain conscious. Eventually Lucifer couldn't wait any longer, and breaking his father's gaze, he looked down at his shoes.

"Please?"

Silence. Absolutely nothing, no singing or laughter, not even a whinny from a newly made horse. Lucifer raised his eyes to his father's face once more, and his father returned his gaze coldly.

"No. No food, get out."

Lucifer bit his lip, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat before he spoke.

"Yes Sir."

But he didn't leave. He hesitated, trying to figure out whether to stay and risk a more serious punishment, or to try for what he... Needed.

"Sir?"

His father span back to glare at him, and he almost ran then and there.

"What? I told you to leave, do you wish to be hurt?" He threatened his son.

"N- no sir. May I drink, Sir?" Lucifer asked, his voice scratchy from the emotions he was trying to contain.

His father huffed out a humerless laugh.

"I suppose as you have allowed yourself to become so weak as to need my creation, that I shall have to give it to you. So yes, Lucifer, you may drink, but you shall have no food until I say. Now for the last time, get out."

Lucifer nodded speechlessly and hurried to the door, stumbling once but not daring to glance back.

He fell round a corner, and huddled between two buildings. His vision was just black now, and his breaths were shaky and shallow. He could feel his pulse thumping rapidly in his ears and in his neck. Another hot flush ravaged his body, and he sobed slightly as he felt his core temperature peak and then drop to new levels of cold. He shivers violently, but as the flushes die down again, he climbs shakily to his feet, spreading his wings and beating them weakly. He rises out of the crack, and turns toward the nearest water fountain. Half flapping, half just randomly spasming his wings, he keeps out of the way of the streets as he makes his way to water.

 **SOO good bad more kill it with fire? Let me know! (please. I like TØP and I'm hyper please?) Also my shuffle just put on a song that starts with I don't believe in no devil which is bloody ironic if you ask me.**


	2. Chapter 2 (I promised myself I wouldn't)

**K so I swear I was gonna stop but then I got 2 likes, and 2 follows, and now I feel loved. So then I was like ok just give the people (lol like 2 people who aren't reading this) more so I was all ready to go and then... I stared at the screen for five minutes. And my creativity was like... No. So I was like Please?? and it was like no. so then I was like, Fine, Be that way u little b!tch, pick a bloody angel and then I spun a metaphorical wheel and it landed on Gabriel. And then this happened**.

Gabriel was chilling. To be fair, Gabriel chilled a lot. He wasn't slacking, per se, just... 'having a little moment to collect my thoughts.' His thoughts were really quite a mess, what with being a kind of switchboard between all the Angels in Heaven, telling So-And-So to tell This-And-That to stop doing Blah-Blah. His own thoughts didn't help either, as they were mostly quite random, but he did feel he had artistic sparks of genius now and again, although it wasn't like his Father was going to let him actually create anything. He was a Herald, after all, though head of them. Speaking of Heralds, he needed to sent one to Michael soon with the message his Father had relayed. Eugh. His head was so full of disjointed bits and pieces of orders and information that he had to take a minute to remember what exactly it was he was supposed to be notifying his brother of. He lied on the cool grass for a moment more, before flipping himself upright with help of his wings and snapping his fingers, spinning round extravegantly to greet the Herald as she glided up to him.

"Right, Kiddo, listen up. Message for Michael, kind regards of Daddy-O. No, wait, don't actually say Daddy-O, will you? Ok..."

The Door creaked as Michael made his entrance into the hall where his Father sat. It was large, vaulted, and the footsteps of the Lords' first Angel echoed impressively as he marched up the aisle. (Years in the future, when Earth was fully populated, the great churches and cathedrals built to praise God would look something like this Hall.)

"Father. You wished to speak with me?" asked Michael in his calm, confident voice.

"Yes, my Son." said God, standing and walking towards his eldest. "Leave us," he added dismissively, allowing his eyes to flicker over to the backs of the already

retreating guards.

"It may have come to your attention that Lucifer is acting somewhat strangely." the Lord paused, gauging his Son's reaction to the words. Michaels' face relaxed a little, and he nodded slightly.

"It had, Father, I am glad you noticed the same thing. Lucifer seems to be overly quiet and tired, I admit his behaviour has worried me a little, it is unusual for him to look so, well, ill, especially as he is usually so audacious."

"Yes," said his Father slowly, his eyebrows creasing slightly. "but I was referring more to his short-tempered attitude. Michael, I must admit, I called him to me earlier and - and this is the most worrying observation I have ever made - he... well, Michael, I am ashamed to say that my son has been directly and deliberately disobaying a direct order without informing anyone."

Michael frowned, opened his mouth, looked up questioningly at his Father, and ultimately settled for a scandalised scowl.

"Michael," his Father sighed, "truely I called you here to ask your advice on this issue. You are my eldest child, and I value your input, especially concerning Lucifer. I know this information may have shocked you, but if you have any ideas on how to tackle Lucifer's recent insubordination I would be grateful to hear them."

Michael looked down, a concerned frown on his face.

"Well, Father..." he began slowly, "all due respect, but I don't believe Lucifer would disobay an order lightly, and I certainly think it would take an awfully strong reason to stop him from explaining his actions. Did he try to explain why he disobayed?" Michael said carefully.

His Father smiled approvingly, laying a hand on his Son's shoulder.

"Trying to aquire all the facts, good boy. But did it not occur to you to ask what the order was?"

"It- it did, Father, but I thought that if you had not told me it may be confidential and that I had better not ask." Replied Michael, glancing up at the Lord.

"Very good Michael. And you are right, I cannot disclose the order, but I can say that Lucifer attempted to explain his actions. However he was very panicky, and the explanation he gave was far from satisfying. What do you think, Michael?"

"I- I don't know, Sir. Maybe..." Michael trailed off, bowing his head.

"My current theory," said his Father quietly, "is that Lucifer has a solid, self-serving reason for disobaying me and lied about his reasons for doing so."

"I- I can't believe- I don't think Lucifer would actually lie, Sir? I- I mean... I don't know, Sir, it just seems very sudden. I could talk to him?" suggested Michael. His eyes were narrowed in confusion and denial of his Father's hypothesis, cast down toward the hard, cold floor. The Lord simply raised his eyebrow at his son, before saying,

"Lucifer does not know I have informed you of the existence of the order and I should like to keep it that way. Michael, on no account are you to confront, consult, or in any way hint or inform Lucifer or anyone else of this situation. No one but you and him may know of the order, and he must not know that you are involved. I should simply like you to watch him for the time being."

"Yes, Sir, sorry. I'll make sure to keep an eye on him." nodded Michael meekly. God noticed with a tiny hint of approval that his cool, collected manner was considerably reduced.

"Good. Dismissed." he turned away from his son, who nodded and walked out immediately.

'None of the meandering Lucifer attempted.' The Lord smirked to himself as he sat back down.

"You may return." he said loudly, appraising the Heralds and guards that marched back into the room.

"Emaeriel. Tell Lucifer to come in here." he said suddenly to a slight, delicate looking Herald. Emaeriel nodded, but the Lord called him back just as he spread his wings.

"Actually, just tell him that he may do whatever he likes for a little, anything at all, but don't breathe a word to anyone, Emaeriel. You will regret it, I assure you." he corrected himself quietly.

"At once, Sir."

Lucifer was lying by the fountain, trying to pace himself as he gulped the crystal liquid. He was still shaking minutely, but his headache had dissipated somewhat and he felt much more contented. Lazily, he dipped a feather in the fountain and held the wing arched above him, admiring the quivering fractal patterns made by Heaven's light and the delicate vibrations made by his own weakness. He lay looking up as the drops slid fluidly down the stem, his eyes drifting shut, only to snap open abruptly as a drop of the tepid liquid hit him squarely between the eyes. He blinked confusedly and smiled at himself before a suppressed snicker originated from above him. The Archangel cocked his head and sat up quickly, wincing a little as the black spots returned in full force.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir." came a voice from the rough direction of the laugh. Lucifer stood up immediately and turned to face the tiny Herald who was now standing a few feet away. He was blonde and fair, and altogether angelic looking. He had a pointed nose and a side swept fringe which he was now peering past timidly.

"No problem," replied Lucifer easily, "I should have heard you, I'm just tired. And that was admittedly funny, I suppose we must be thankful Gabriel wasn't here to tell everyone about it." The Herald laughed looking relieved, and nodded at him. "Now, what did you want to speak with me about?"

"Nothing big, Sir, just Father says you may do whatever you like, anything at all. Would you like me to send a reply?"

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment in exultation, letting out a little of the breath he had been holding for too long.

"Just say thank you very much, please. Dismissed." he smiled happily at the Herald, who immediately flew off to deliver his message.

Just as the Herald left, Michael thudded down behind his brother. Lucifer span round to meet him, a happy smile gracing his features and a decidedly sarcastic comment about Michael's landing skills on his tongue. All this quickly dissipated as his gaze reached Michael's features, however.

His brother's expression was sad, and angry, and confused, and most of all disappointed as he stared at Lucifer. His beautiful pearly wings were raised stiffly, and only not quite threateningly above his head, and his eyes, rather then taking on that stony look that came when he simply followed orders no matter how much he disagreed with them, were more adamant then Lucifer had ever seen them.

"Michael? Brother, what-" Lucifer gasped as Michael slammed into him, knocking the air out of his lungs and almost making him pass out. He writhed in his brother's grasp, muttering his name as they flew high, too high for many to see. In almost no time at all, he was lying on his front in a field.

Lucifer groaned and lifted his head, dimmly registering an obnoxiously yellow dandelion right in front of his face before Michael forced his shoulders back to the ground. He turned his head to the side quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of his brother, but Michael was kneeling in the other side of him, one hand still holding his shoulders down and the other pressing his arm up and behind him into his back.

"Ow, Michael that hurts, what in the-"

"Shut up, and listen." snapped Michael. "I'm disobaying for you here, so don't you dare move."

Lucifer tried to turn his head again at that, "Michael, no, you can't-" Lucifer broke of with another gasp as Michael twisted his arm higher.

"Okay, okay..." he gasped hurriedly, dropping his head back down and relaxing him his brother's harsh grip as his shoulder twinged in protest. "Ah..."

"Shut up, Lucifer!" ground out Michael, "I need to know."

Lucifer closed his eyes, biting his lip again.

"Michael please just-" he stopped again as Michael ground his knee into the palm of his other hand, the one laying flat out beside him. Lucifer gasped and his shoulders hunched instinctively, only causing more pain.

"No. I'm sorry, Lucifer, but I need to know what that order is. I'm sorry I'm making you disobay, but I know you've done that already, haven't you?" Questioned Michael.

"I- I- Michael-" Lucifer wanted to lie, wanted to say he didn't know what in the name of creation Michael was on about and could he please let go so he could heal, but he just couldn't bring himself to push away his only older brother, the only sibling that he could simply count on without having to worry about the fact he was meant to be taking care of them. Michael must be so strong to cope with not having his own older sibling.

"Please just let me go."

Michael hesitated, his eyes flickering but hardening on the back of his brother's head.

"No. I know you wouldn't disobay unless you had a good reason. Please, Lucifer, he told me not to talk to you but I can't let you get hurt." he said determinedly.

"Hurt!?" spluttered Lucifer breathlessly, "Michael you're breaking my arm!

"It'll heal." said Michael decisively.

Lucifer opened his mouth to correct his brother then and there, 'I can't even heal a cut, how am I supposed to heal bone with this weak excuse for Grace?' but he caught himself before he could completely mess up.

"Y- You're right of course, Brother," he murmered defeatedly, "but I can't tell you the order. I am so sorry, Michael, and I'm so... hounoured you're disobaying just to give me a chance, but I can't. Go back to Father and say you don't know what happened, you know well enough I won't tell anyone about this..." the statement was an order but the inflection made it sound like a question. There was silence for a moment and Lucifer thought that he may have gotten Michael to relent, but then,

"No. If you won't tell me the order then you can at least tell me why you disobayed it." Ordered Micheal stoically.

The silence returned, blanketing the empty field, the only sound being Lucifer's harsh panting. Lucifer clenched his eyes shut and just imagined telling Michael everything, about the Mark, about the tremors, the constant headaches, the hot flushes, the pathetically weakened healing factor, the order and how hard he found it to obay it. He imagined Michael letting go of him at once, helping him sit up and then pulling him closer, holding him and letting his shaking hands wrap around his older brother. He imagined Michael tilting his head up and looking into his eyes, and telling him that it was ok, he would talk to Father, he was sure he'd understand. He imagined Michael saying that Gabriel, dear observant Gabriel, had noticed his illness and worried. He imagined Michael pulling back his sleeve to see the Mark, and using his warm Grace to help his own cold soul to heal the burnt and fractured skin around it.

"Lucifer." Michael's sharp tone cut through his thoughts abruptly. Father or comfort, Father or comfort? Lucifer let out a shaky breath. He could just say he found it hard to follow the order, that he tried his best... no. He should have tried harder, he was weak, he knew it was his own fault for not being stronger.

"I- I can't, Michael, there's more to this than you know. I can't say anything without disclosing the rest I'm sorry, and I won't get you in anymore trouble than you're in. I swear not to speak of this again, just let me go, Michael."

Michael was silent for a moment, before huffing out a disappointed sigh.

"...Very well, Brother. If you will not tell me I cannot make you. But... I want you to know, I will always help you, even against orders." Michael stood up, finally releasing Lucifer. His brother stood up stiffly holding his arm against his chest and keeping his eyes cast downward.

"Thank you, Michael. I love you." and with that he flew away with an air just this side of fleeing while Michael took off at once in the other direction.

Gabriel was munching on some bread from a basket by the water fountain and lazily watching the cloudless, deep blue sky, admiring his second eldest brother's creation as it interacted with the trees above him to create stunning dappling effects on the jade green grass. However, the tranquility of the scene was dissipated abruptly with the arrival of Lucifer himself.

The Archangel stumbled his landing, whimpering slightly as the jolt caused his arm to twinge. He felt dizzy and sick with hunger, the full force of his fever returning now the distraction of Michael and his dangerously self-sacrificing antics was gone. Lucifer caught sight of the basket of bread between the black splotches and stumbled toward it gracelessly, grabbing a loaf, falling to his knees and taking a tiny bite. The fluffy tiger loaf tasted like cardboard in his mouth, but he managed to swallow it without gagging, as had happened before.

It was then that a shocked, scared voice filtered into his consciousness.

"Lucifer?"

Gabriel watched in shock as his determined, poised older brother managed to screw up the easiest landing he had ever seen, whined every time his arm was moved, and lunged towards the bread like someone half-starved. He could hardly gather himself together enough to choke out his brother's name, this entire situation was so ethereal.

In these early days of creation, no-one had had many experiences with drastically weird or worrying events. Of course, there was the fiasco with the Darkness, but that had somehow still seemed like just another angelic duty, dealt with and ignored, never to greatly influence them again. Gabriel was not used to things hitting quite so close to home as his impeccable older brother that he relied on and looked up to almost as much as Michael showing up shaking and hurt.

When he gasped out his brothers name, Lucifer whipped his head around hurriedly to meet his face. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and the hand holding the bread was bruised spectacular blues and purples, promising an interesting myriad of yellows and greens if it wasn't healed soon. However the sudden movement seemed too much for him as he swayed, his face draining of colour.

Seeing his big brother's pained face seemed to kick Gabriel's brain back into gear, and he hurried over to his brother, wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders, carefully avoiding the damaged one of course, and helping him sit down. Lucifer sat stiffly, so Gabriel scooted closer, pulled his brother towards him, and pressed Lucifer's hot head onto his own chest, running his fingers through his brother's short blond hair and breathing slowly and steadily, hoping Lucifer would get the point. Obviously, Archangels did not need to breathe constantly, but Lucifer looked like he could use the extra help.

Lucifer, for his part, remained stiff as his littlest Archangel brother pulled him into a hug, but when Gabriel started combing through his coarse, short hair, he couldn't help but let out a tiny, silent sob. The fingers in his hair clenched immediately, and Gabriel held his brother's jaw firmly as he tipped Lucifer's head up. Lucifer's vibrant blue eyes met Gabriel's soft honey one's for an instant, before they flickered away.

"No, Luci, come on. Don't do the powerful-angel-of-the-lord routine on me now." muttered Gabriel.

He released Lucifer's head, taking his bruised hand and pulling it close to his chest, splaying it palm down over his heart.

"Hey, Luci, come on, you gotta heal, stupid."

"I- Gabby?" muttered Lucifer.

"What is it, bro?" responded Gabriel softly.

"Will you heal me? 'm tired." Lucifer said as his eyes slid gently shut.

"O- ok. Hold on." said Gabriel, suddenly feeling a bit nervous at the thought of healing his older brother. He'd only ever healed fledglings before, when they flew into trees or decided that stroking tigers was a good idea (although a tiny blue eyed, black haired fledgling had made good friends with an elephant).

Gabriel rested his fingertips on the Light Bringer's forehead and focused on twisting his Grace into the non-existent space between him and Lucifer. If he truely, subconsciously wanted Lucifer healed, then his Grace would flow effortlessly into him and heal his injuries automatically, but if on any level he didn't want his big brother well again, his Grace would gravitate back into him. Not that he was worrying about that, of course he wanted his big brother well. He hoped Lucifer would make this easy and accept his Grace, healing was a two-way action after all and the recipient had to fully trust and want the other's Grace, lest their own Grace or soul would fight the foreign one.

Lucifer accepted his golden Grace easily however, and the Light Bringer's eyes closed fully as he allowed Gabriel to heal him, and also replenish some of his bright white, freezing Grace. Gabriel tried once to trickle around and behind some of Lucifer's Grace, but the great gleaming expanse cut him off sharply and nudged him back from the opening. Gabriel backed off respectfully, fully aware that he was essentially poking around in Lucifer's very being and that he needed to not cross any bounderies, literal or otherwise, and continued healing the bruises on Lucifer's hand. Lucifer smiled slightly as Gabriel slid back into himself, breathing still but much more steadily, and with no blossoming blue patches ornamenting his hand or shoulder anymore.

"Thanks, Gabe." he smiled, his voice stronger and louder than it had been in quite a while.

"No problemo, nearly biggest bro." teased Gabriel, but it was only a token performance.

"So."

"So." agreed Lucifer.

"What _exactly-_ "

Lucifer slammed a hand onto his brother's forehead, holding him down by his shoulder with the other, muttered a few words in Enochian, let go, stood up while Gabriel was still blinking, confusedly trying to remeber where he was, and flew away.

 **Lol so ok cliffhanger. Gabriel's fine, don't worry. Lucifer hasn't gone evil either.** **I think the whole healing thing was clear-ish, but basically,** **if one angel is trying to heal someone else, they force their Grace into a space between them. The bigger this space is, the harder it is, which is why angels like to touch when they heal. If the angel completely wants to heal the person, the Grace will naturally go to the person and it will be easy(er) to heal them, but if the angel doesn't, their Grace will 'fight' to go back to them.** **If the person getting the Grace doesn't want to be healed or really doesn't trust the angel (doesn't trust like Dean wouldn't trust Lucifer to look after baby Sammy) they subconciously fight back against the Grace, although they can still be overpowered.**


End file.
